


Legs

by imsfire



Series: Droid Week 2018 [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Cassian is a good human, Droid rights, Feels and fluff, Friendship, Gen, and not everyone wants to be a little soldier, tiny hint of background rebelcaptain but blink and you'll miss it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 14:09:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15607983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imsfire/pseuds/imsfire
Summary: A droid who has reason to thank Cassian Andor asks K-2 to give him a message.For day four of Droid Celebration Week on tumblr; theme, Soldier.Not everyone wants to be a soldier, and some might be very happy to help in other ways, if given the choice.





	Legs

There’s a lot of noise in the hangar; rattling and shouting, the whisper of fuel lines pumping and roar of engines powering up or shutting off.  Transports slide by with a hiss of air suspension, voices of a dozen species of beings, calling out and shouting as they work or chattering as they stand down and head off at the end of a shift.  Working droids beep and whistle and grumble at one another in binary.  There’s a steady hammering coming from the far end of the vast open space, where repairs are going on.  Bustle and busyness, and business as usual.

Until this latest crazy mission there had been as many empty landing bays as full ones, here in Home One’s main small craft hangar.  Now there are twenty new X-wings and two U-wings.  This will make everyone happier, K-2 thinks.  Plenty of ships again.   

One of which is due to be his.

Well, his and Cassian’s.  Well.  Cassian’s, anyway.

He’ll be the co-pilot, whatever anyone says.

He can see the ship from here.  It’s one of the ones in the repair bay.  Nothing serious, but when a ship arrives scored by blaster cannon and with panel damage it’s a sensible policy to check it out.  He can see Cassian talking urgently to one of the Sullustan techs on the work detail.  His examination of the ship’s damage suggests it should be ready for use in under eight hours.  Though whether Command will see fit to send them out again straightaway is another matter.  But they’ll be ready to go, whenever the orders do come.  They’ll have their space-legs again.

It’s - exciting.

There have been times in recent months when he’s been afraid he’d be reassigned, despite all Cassian’s assurances.  But with a new U-wing, they’ll be able to take their little team out into the field again; their new little team, of three instead of two.  They can get back to business.

The Sullustan draws Cassian aside, into the ship, presumably to inspect some damage to the interior.  The crashing and hammering goes on.

In all the many layers of noise, from the loudest to the smallest and most unobtrusive, he can always separate the organics’ sounds from those of droids.  It isn’t just that droids tend to use binary when conferring amongst themselves (and there’s an unavoidable pleasure in realising once again how few organics understand, as he listens to a cantankerous C1-series cussing out one of its human counterparts in the roundest terms to a smaller, newer Astromech that listens in respectful – or perhaps stunned - silence).  Even when it’s a droid working on a manual job, they tend to use tools with absolute precision; every bang or buzz or purr of vibration is regular.  And there are markedly fewer breaks; droids don’t stop for kaf or smokes or “a breath of air”, or to gossip (well, not much gossip, anyway).  They do their jobs well and don’t make mistakes.  There’s no comparison between the sound of an organic at work, and the sound of a droid.

And the gentle rhythmic footsteps that pad up beside him while he stands waiting are definitely those of a droid, too.  It sounds like a GNK, and he doesn’t need a recharge, so he ignores it when it stops beside him.  And goes on ignoring it. 

It doesn’t move on.

Eventually he just has to look; has to know what it’s doing.  Gonks are always doing something, pottering about getting on with their deliveries, politely requesting permission to connect up and supply power to whoever needs it.  So this one must be expecting to connect up to someone, or something.  

Not that he’s curious.  More bored.  Yes, almost always a little bored, except in far busier and more active environments than this; environments that have Cassian grey with stress and Jyn swearing nearly as impressively as the old C1 that is now spouting expletives at its own welding iron.  But just the same…  Patient courteous GNKs are the worker-pollinators of the Alliance hive (and he’s rather pleased with that metaphor; must remember to try that on Cassian sometime).  They deserve better than to be patted on the chassis and ignored. 

K looks down.

The gonk is just sitting next to him.  It’s settled down a little onto its telescopic limbs, like an organic animal hunkering down to wait for something; and its fore section is angled slightly towards him.  Its optical scanners flare wide as it registers his attention and it bleeps rapidly before he can look away.

>Designation K-2SO- **question sound** <

It sounds almost eager, as if pleased past all reason to have been noticed.  Well, it is only a GNK, after all.  Probably very used to being dismissed as just a walking battery.

>Correct- **affirmative sound** <

>Assistance requested- **question sound** <

Well that’s odd.  He certainly didn’t ask for - “No, thank you.  I powered up fully at the end of the last day rotation and don’t require your assistance.” He knows he should have said it in binary for courtesy’s sake but he really hasn’t the patience to whistle all that; and gonks, poor things, have not been given the most complex language matrices.

>Correction<  >Assistance requested-negative<  >Requesting your assistance designation K-2SO< >Acceptable- **question sound** <

Oh.

K looks down more closely at the droid beside him.  It’s on the large side for a gonk, which will have made it clumsier than average and may account for its rather shy demeanour.  Its casing appears to have been customised.  It has a broader, deeper box section than normal and what looks like a detachable lid. 

In short, it does not look like a battery at all. 

This is undeniably curious. 

GNKs are sometimes rebuilt into walking bombs, a practice he absolutely deplores though he has yet only expressed the idea to one trusted organic.  But this fellow’s adaptations aren’t the standard ordnance modification at all. 

He considers for a moment and then asks

>Your designation- **question sound** <

>LG-97L<  >Message delivery requested- **question sound** <  >Your human is good<

Not the kind of sentiment K expects to hear from a power droid.  Though “Yes, that’s quite true” he says aloud.  His human is undeniably good.

The gonk makes a mournful whistle he knows all too well > **Apology sound** <  >Basic not good<

Poor little tub of bolts, it’s doing its best.  He doesn’t want to become a sneerer.  Quite enough of them among organics without droids starting to do it to one another too.

K-2 kneels down to be on the same level as the unimpressive little fellow.  Switches back to binary.

> **Apology sound** <  >Affirmative<  >My human is good<  >Your knowledge/my human- **question sound** <  >how/what- **question sound** <

>Your human is good- **affirmative sound** <  >Your human<  >assistance given<  >Repairs given< 

Whatever does it mean?

> **Emphasis+question sound** <  >Assistance given to my human- **question sound** <  >Repaired my human- **question sound** <  >where/when- **question sound** <

LG-97L bounces up and down a couple of inches on its wheezy legs.  >Negative<  >Negative< 

And then it starts spelling something out letter by letter in careful bleeps.  >N<  >E<  >W<  >L<  >I<  >F<  >E<

“New life?  Please don’t get religious, small one.  That is of no interest to me.”  New life indeed.  >How/why repairs for my human- **question sound** <  >Explain/please<

>Your human repairs received negative<  >Your human carried out repairs<  >Assistance to LG-97L requested+provided<  >Your human is good<  >Message delivery requested- **question sound** < 

“Cassian fixed you?”

>Your human=designation Cassian- **question sound** <

>Affirmative<  >Designation Captain Cassian Andor Alliance Intelligence<  >Your statement/correct Captain Cassian Andor Alliance Intelligence is good<  >Cassian provided repairs- **question sound** <

>Affirmative<  >Affirmative<   >Message delivery requested- **question sound** < 

>Specify message- **question sound** <

>Thank you<

Aside from his own humans, very few beings of any kind ever thank K-2 and it’s undeniably gratifying, even from this little chap. “Yes, small one, I’ll give Cassian a message for you, you don’t need to thank me.”  >Specify message please- **question sound** <

>Thank you<  >Message=thank you<  >Negative bomb< 

There are some choice Jedhan swear words K-2 might use now, were he an organic.  Bombs?  Negative bombs?  What? – _what?_ –

His own comms system is practically chirruping with frustration at this slow discussion, and Maker only knows what a strain it must be putting on LG-97L’s circuits.  Why couldn’t the wretched beings who programmed poor little droids like this just give them a decent language matrix? 

>Negative bomb- **emphasis+question sound** <  >How/why/what/when - **question sound** <  >Content incomprehensible<   >Apology<

>N<  >E<  >W<  >L<  >I<  >F<  >E< 

Maybe that isn’t some kind of Force mantra after all.  But he’s no clearer what it _is_.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand, small one.” Embarrassing, but if he doesn’t even apologise then he’s as bad as the blockheaded biosupremacist who first programmed the GNK series.

LG-97L bounces again, flashing its optical scanners.  Another long stream of bleeps.  >LG-97L damaged<  >Assistance requested/denied<  >Your human negative bomb attachment<  >Your human designation  Captain Cassian Andor Alliance Intelligence<  >Assistance provided<  >Repairs provided<  >Negative bomb affirmative alternative usages<  >L<  >E<  >G<  >S<  >New designation usage/LG-97L<  >P<  >O<  >R<  >T<  >E<  >R< >A<  >G<  >E<

“Porterage?”

>Affirmative<  >2 standard-annualised-time-cycles/past<  >LG-97L=Legs=P<  >O<  >R<

“LG-97L equals legs equals porterage.  Ah.”

And really, it’s impressive.  That’s a complex set of concepts to have set out to put across, even to a fellow droid. “Cassian didn’t send you for military ordnance usage when you were damaged but repaired you and reassigned you to porterage duties.  You wish to thank him?”  >Affirmative- **question sound** < 

>Affirmative<  >2 standard-annualised-time-cycles/past<  >Thank you< 

“I will be very happy to convey your message.”

LG-97L – Legs – heaves itself up with another gentle wheeze of servos and turns around.  Stops, gives another little bounce, then sets off, back to whatever work it’s been assigned today.  

K-2 watches it go.  Feels a significant sense of warmth towards it and its kind; 21% increased affective response towards gonks in general and 43% towards this particular individual.  He’s only just met it, but he feels fond of LG-97L. 

And his human.  Cassian often spends time between missions working in the droid maintenance unit. 

He told Cassian about his disapproval of the walking-bomb protocol well before they left Yavin 4. 

He checks the time-stamp on the memory file.  Three months before the Scarif mission. 

Just under two standard years ago. 

Yes.  His human is good.

**Author's Note:**

> LG-97L - Legs - is a droid OC of mine, first introduced in the earlier story "Heavy lifting". I wanted to give him some back-story.


End file.
